BANGNABBIT!

Of all the holidays, the Fourth of July is my least favorite. First of all, do you call it the Fourth of July with capital letters or is it really the 4th of July? I could google it but I think I'll wait to finish this blog and then decide for myself what works the best for me.

The Fourth means NOISE and lots of it. Around here, most of the revelers cross the state line and go into Vancouver to purchase their arsenals and bring them home in the backs of their pick-ups next to the cases of beer. Then they spend the afternoon building platforms to hold the giant firecrackers or m-80s or whatever they're called. After the barbecue is over, the little kids are allowed to twirl around their sparklers and other "safe" fireworks before the Big Bangs begin.

This is when the BIG NOISE starts. My husband and I like to go to bed around nine o'clock for some reading time but find this nearly impossible for all the whizzing, whirling and huge bangs going off.  We've usually just come home from the party our  friends throw and are no longer interested in even thinking about the watermelon or strawberry shortcake that is served before the "show" starts. We just want our bed and our books.
My husband over worries about stray firecrackers landing somewhere on our property and starting a fire. (I actually think this is a ridiculous worry but I don't say anything about it.)

And then most of the neighbors stay up late enjoying the beer they bought earlier and loudly calling out patriotic greetings to one another.  It isn't until somewhere between ten and eleven that things start to quiet down when we can begin thinking about turning out the lights and settling in for the night.

I'm the one who worries about the pets who have been cowering under the dining room table or sent to an unfamiliar friend's house to ride out the fun together.  Their dog chooses to cower under the friends' bed so the dogs don't even take a chance on comforting each other.

The Fourth of July is a fun day even for us but it can be dangerous.  There are always a few who blow off fingers or otherwise stupidly hurt themselves. The only other time this happens is on Thanksgiving  when some poor cook burns her hand, arm or fingers taking the enormous turkey out of the oven.

So Happy Fourth of July! And I do mean that sincerely.  Just BE CAREFUL! Oh. And by the way, I prefer to call it the Fourth of July and not the 4th. 

Summer Fun

Hmm. . . .rat-a-tat with my fingers. I'm thinking about summer. It's a season much loved and eagerly awaited in Oregon. The rain lets up for a while and we can actually go outside without wearing our hoodies and we can wear flip flops all the time. So let's consider summer.

Actually, summer is not my favorite season. It gets way too hot in August whether you believe in climate change  or not. I hate the heat. Pretty interesting when you consider that I live in an air-conditioned home. The problem with that is that my husband thrives in the heat and prefers to have all the windows and screened doors open so the heat can permeate the house. I don't like the way the air feels when the thermometer goes above 72.  To me, that means it's time to shut all the doors and windows and hunker down in the cool of  the family room and let the ceiling fans do their thing along with the air conditioning.  Now that's comfortable. This air-conditioning v. hot air debate has produced an uneasy and a somewhat ugly truce at our house.

And how about summer clothes? I don't think that any woman over 60 should wear shorts. Just sit in the grocery store parking lot for a few extra minutes and watch those cellulited, varicose veined legs go by.  Not a pretty sight, folks. Same goes for tube tops. You have to be about 14 to look even half way good in those crazy things.  And swimming suits? Never again unless you're in the physical therapy pool.  If you're somewhere near water wear some lightweight capris and a comfortable t-shirt with some sparklies of some kind on it.  

The much acclaimed summer food even gets tiresome after you've eaten too many fruit salads containing too many chunks of watermelon. You're perfectly aware that the hostess is serving this to get rid of all the extra watermelon her frig will hold.  Here's where I plead guilty. I do the same thing.

So get out your bug spray, your tanning lotion, your favorite shorts and tube top and enjoy the weather. If you get a mosquito bite, put an x on it with your finger nail and then spit on it. The itch will feel better for a few minutes. And as for  me, I'll be holed up in my cool house reading a good book.